Wake up.
Have a drink.
Make coffee.
Smoke some
cigarettes.
Ponder the
vacuum of the
pending day.
Walk out
to face it,
numbness
incarnate.
- mce
Friday, September 10, 2010
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Merely a holding cell for journal entries, wry observations, attempted witticisms, poems and random aphorisms. Sense of humor required. This is poetry, NOT biography. Please do not call 911, stage an intervention or suggest AA. Everyone deserves their own death, allow me mine. Tentative conclusions encouraged. Advice ignored. Absolute truths not welcome. Enlightenment unlikely. Play on.
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